Rainbow
by AivarBoneless
Summary: Program Rainbow is a government supported action with the intent of bringing together the best soldiers from the most elite military special forces in the world to protect the world from a terrorist threat.
1. SAS

Mark sighed in agony, looking desperately at the coffee machine that refused to pour him the hot beverage.

"Damn..." he swore under his breath.

He remembered all the mornings when he would have a nice cup of coffee to start the day off and how he took them all for granted. In his moment of despair, he heard the door of the cafeteria open. Like a beacon of hope with a northern English accent, none other than Mike Baker himself entered the room. Not that Mark really cared much about it. He respected the man, but thought him too old for this line of work.

"Mornin'..." Baker greeted him while yawning.

"Morning." Mark answered coldly without giving him a single look.

After giving up on the coffee machine, he shifted his focus to the fridge, hoping he would find some delicious food. When he saw the beautiful BLT sandwich sitting peacefully on a plate, his eyes glistened with joy. There was only one small flaw. A torn piece of paper with the word _SMOKE_ scribbled on it. Mark simply scoffed and discarded the – to him – insignificant note. Taking a seat at one of the tables, he turned to Mike who was just about to try and get himself some coffee. Chandar _could've_ told him that the machine was broken, but where'd be the fun in that? He sat back in his chair and awaited the man's undoubtedly over-the-top reaction.  
Mike pressed the coffee button and just like Mark thought, absolutely nothing happened. He pressed it again and just like before, nothing.

"Fuckin'..." he muttered.

Chandar's mouth curved into a grin. Baker tried pushing the button once more and this time, when no liquid came pouring into the cup, he struck the machine.

"Bloody bastard!" he spat profanity at the inanimate object before sitting down opposite Mark, who had just taken a bite from his juicy delicious sandwich, with his face adorned by a satisfied smirk.

" 'Ave you seen the other blokes?" Baker asked.

Mark paused for a brief moment while still chewing the heavenly sandwich. He conjured up an image of Sledge training the cadets in his mind, which was the most probable scenario. When he thought of Smoke, he imagined him snoring loudly in his bed. He obviously had a decent idea of the men's whereabouts, but since he didn't feel like explaining it, he simply shook his head in response to Mike's question and continued eating.  
The man sighed with disappointment. He desperately wanted to speak to Seamus about the Rainbow program. Completely out of the blue, breaking the silence in the room was a shout. But not just any shout, oh no, but a shout yelled in Highland Scottish. Instantly, Mike recognised the accent as well as the voice that he found oh so comical. Without a doubt in his head he knew that the source of the screaming was Seamus.

" 'Scuse me, son," he excused himself, to which Mark only responded with a silent nod.

Baker left the cafeteria and headed to the courtyard. There he was – Sledge – in all his sweaty muscular glory, doing push-ups with all the cadets. Mike approached him so that his knee could almost touch the man's head.***

"Startin' early today, are we Cowden?" he asked, looking down at the giant man.

Seamus stood up. He towered over Mike who wasn't exactly a short man. Cowden's skin was glistening with sweat and he was panting in exhaustion. Nonetheless, he still had his usual optimistic happy-go-lucky smile stretched across his otherwise unfriendly looking face.

"Aye, best time to start is early," he explained with a joyful tone.

"Alright lads, you did well today! **Dismissed**!" he commanded the cadets who were still doing push-ups.

They left the courtyard in a big group, showering Seamus with grateful comments and praise. Mike beckoned Seamus back inside the base. He was thinking about Rainbow and what it would mean for them to join the program. Not worried about it per se, rather he was sceptical. Mike had never heard of this 'program'. When he was contacted by some American woman who called herself Six, claiming she was part of the government, she told him to gather three of the best SAS soldiers besides himself and come to the Hereford base. Needless to say, it all sounded a bit suspicious to him. He figured Chandar would know about it, but even _he_ had no idea what the program was. Reluctantly, he decided to pick the three operators. After all, the meeting point was said to be the Hereford SAS base. Even if it was a scheme, he figured it must be some program his superiors have greenlit.

"What do you think of this _Rainbow_ shite?" Mike asked as he was walking to the base with Cowden by his side.

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, lad," he reassured him with optimism.

"It's bloody abnormal how alright you are with this," Baker retorted.

"I never said I was alright with it, but it seems like an order from high up to me," Seamus explained.

Mike scoffed, sceptical about it all.

"I'll get Mark, we're leaving in an hour," Cowden stated.

"In a fuckin' hour?! I 'aven't even 'ad my mornin' coffee yet, fuck's sake." Mike replied, clearly angry.

"No, I'll get Chandar, you get Porter. I am _not_ dealing with that bastard," he added.

Seamus agreed, but was slightly disappointed he got the short end of the stick. The men parted ways at the cafeteria's entrance, with Cowden heading upstairs where Porter's quarters were. Upon reaching the entrance to the room where sleeping beauty was, he knocked on the door. At first, he was met by silence, but he persisted and knocked again, this time a bit harder. Still no response.

"Third time's the charm," Seamus said to himself.

He only managed to knock once before a raspy voice called out from the other side.

" **Piss off, wanker!** "

Seamus smirked.

"That wasn't very nice, Jim," he replied.

"Don't fucking call me Jim and **fuck off**!" Porter yelled back.

"We're leaving in an hour, lad," Cowden calmly explained.

The next few seconds were filled with silence. Suddenly, the door opened and James was glaring at Seamus from the other side, dressed in nothing but his underwear, looking like he just rose from his own grave.

"Which part of 'piss off' do ya not understand?" he angrily inquired.

"The whole thing. Now c'mon, move your arse and get dressed. Mike is driving us to the Hereford base," Cowden answered.

"Not only do you wake me up at five fucking thirty, but you're also gonna let Margaret drive? Fuck me," he expressed.

"Just get ready, Jim," Seamus ordered with a smirk on his face.

"I told ya not to call me that," James retorted before slamming the door behind him, right into his Sledge's face.

Cowden spent the next few minutes waiting in front of his room, wondering how someone like James Porter is one of the four best SAS soldiers in the world. He thought back to the time when he first met him. He couldn't quite decide whether he should be intimidated by him or if he simply found him ridiculous. The man's scarred face certainly brought out an unnerving feeling in people, but even though his voice was gruff and curt, his accent was comical. A clusterfuck of many dialects jumbled into one defective speech. All that was just trivial, however. The one thing that really made Seamus have certain doubts about James was his practices in the field of battle. The use of toxic gas is one thing, but to actually enjoy it is something completely different. Nonetheless, he simply couldn't deny Porter's efficiency and skill.  
The door opened and out walked James. With Seamus by his side, he walked downstairs to meet with the rest of the team.

"Why are we joining the homo special forces anyway?" he asked in his usual curt manner of speaking.

"Because we're the elite of the SAS, the four best soldiers in the unit," Seamus replied.

"Uh-huh, alright..." James muttered, deep in thought.

"But then, why are they recruiting you three?" he added, smirking arrogantly.

Cowden nudged him in the arm, chuckling.

"I'm only mucking about," Porter responded with a snigger.

"Are ya actually gonna let Marge drive?" he asked.

"Aye," Sledge responded.

"You've gotta be taking a piss, mate," he commented.

When they reached the cafeteria, Mike and Mark were already stood in front of the entrance, ready to leave.

"Mornin' Porter, you alright?" Mike greeted him.

"Been better, mate," he replied.

Mark, like always, stayed silent, judging everyone without saying a word. With Seamus in the front leading the group, they left the base behind.

"I've got something _really_ special for you lot," Mike exclaimed while reaching for his glove compartment and pulling out a cassette.

With a collective sigh from everyone else present in the Land Rover, he put it inside the player and the song _Paint it Black_ by the Rolling Stones started playing.

"Ah, fuck me..." James swore to himself.

"Learn some culture you bastards!" Mike added.

This was going to be a long car journey.


	2. GSG 9

"Come on Mary, just one more," Elias enthusiastically encouraged Marius to complete his seventh pull-up.

"Verdammtes...Schwein..." he struggled to respond when his face, red like a strawberry, started swelling up from the strain of holding onto the iron bar for dear life.

His arms were trembling like an earthquake. Every muscle fibre in his body felt like it was tearing apart. He simply couldn't hold on any longer and let go, falling down to the floor, arms like two gummy worms. Elias scoffed confidently, condemning his friend to a lifetime of mockery about the man's lack of upper body strength.

"What is this, Mary?!" he exclaimed while squeezing Marius' bicep or lack there off.

What is this softness that I'm feeling?!" he persisted, but received no response from Streicher, who was too busy trying not to die.

"Lemme show you how it's done," Elias boasted as he prepared himself for the show-off pull-ups.

With Marius still lying on the ground, slowly perishing from the world, Kötz jumped onto the bar started lifting his body. He was good at it – raising himself quickly and fluently without much effort. The first three pull-ups went brilliantly, but on the fourth one, something went terribly, **terribly** wrong. A loud bony crackle from Elias' back echoed throughout the gym, causing Marius' head to snap towards him in surprise. The man, who had just seconds ago looked confident, now had the facial expression of a man witnessing his own death.

"Oh no, did you break your spine, Kötz? How very unfortunate," Streicher said sarcastically.

"Well, I'm rather thirsty, so you hang tight while I go and get myself some water," he added, as he got up, leaving the possibly paralysed Elias behind.

Just to clarify, he didn't actually hate the man. He simply found his joker personality and immature humour incredibly annoying, so he relished in that small – but significant – victory over him. Even though his arms were limper than wet noodles and burned with the intensity of a thousand suns, he suppressed the urge to scream at the top of his lungs as he moved around. He put on his usual arrogant face and confidently strode into the cafeteria to quench his thirst with some water. Much to his dismay, he found Dominic sitting at one of the tables, eating the most German of all meals – bratwurst and sauerkraut. He glanced at the man, but that was the only thing he did. He wanted no interaction that could even remotely be considered _friendly_. Ever since Brunsmeier came back to the force, he had been nothing but a pain in the ass for Marius, who had previously been considered as the finest GSG 9 operator on active duty. After Dominic's undeniably successful undercover mission and some alone time behind bars, he returned as 'top dog'. Streicher hated this almost as much as he hated the man himself. He simply couldn't understand how someone like Dominic could rival _him_ , the best of the best. On top of that, after the Rainbow program invitation – which Marius saw as an opportunity to even further cement his reputation – the situation only got worse. This borderline criminal was picked as one of the four most skilled operators to join Rainbow. It pissed him off, more than he wanted to admit. Every single time he passed him, he had to resist the urge to punch him right then and there. Anyone entering the cafeteria would have their hair singed off by the extreme tension between the two men. The only person who would've been safe was the one that – fortunately – walked inside.  
Monika was a woman who wasn't particularly able to pick up on the awkwardness in the room. She wasn't very good with anything related to other people nor did she really care about that. Even if she was aware of the conflict those two had, she wouldn't trouble herself with it.

"Hey guys!" she happily greeted them while heading straight for the vending machine.

"Tschuss," Marius responded, but Dominic kept quiet, enthralled by his sausage.

"How did training go?" Monika asked while fiddling with the machine's buttons.

"...it went great," Streicher replied with an unsure tone.

Monika, failing to pick up on the blaring sirens of wrongness in his voice, simply accepted the man's response and opened the bottle of Höllen Sprudel she bought. Dominic however, wasn't so ignorant of the situation. Noticing Marius' awkward demeanour and tone he figured he had done something to Elias.

"Your friend is probably dead," he commented nonchalantly and continued eating his dish.

Weiss was completely taken aback by his words. _Why would he be dead? What did I miss? Is there something I don't know about going on?_ Those were the questions that floated around in her mind, chipping away at her delicate sense of control. She grew anxious and uneasy with each passing second.

" **What** did you **do**?" she asked Marius restlessly.

Streicher nervously chuckled, thinking about Kötz who was most likely still hanging motionless in the gym, his life flashing before his eyes. He poured himself a glass of water and kept quiet throughout the entire process which only served to unnerve Monika further.

"Damn it, answer me!" she shouted nervously.

Dominic, observing this confrontation from the comfort of his seat, was thoroughly entertained.

"Oh, I didn't do anything. That said, you might want to get to the gym and check if he still has a pulse," Marius explained, causing Monika's heart to sink.

She left the cafeteria in a hurry, paying no mind to anything or anyone in her path. She might've ran over a cadet, but she didn't notice it. When she finally made it to her destination, she saw him...still just...hanging there, like a piece of drying meat. She wasn't exactly sure what to think in that situation. Should she be concerned and scared that her friend might be dead right in front of her, or should she be bursting out laughing because he died while doing pull-ups. With her face firmly planted in the palm of her hand, she approached him and took his pulse. There was one, but it was fainter than a mouse's cough so she could barely feel it.

"Are you OK, Eli?" Monika asked quietly, careful not to disturb his moment of painful serenity.

"Mhm..." a barely audible squeal of anguish escaped Elias' lifeless body.

"Do you see the light?" Weiss asked jokingly.

"Ja..." he whimpered, barely able to speak.

Monika proceeded to unclasp his firm grip on the iron bar manually – one finger at a time until he eventually fell to the floor.

"Agh, Scheiße! I think I broke my dignity," he whined upon hitting the hard ground.

"Yes, mein Freund, yes you did," she commented.

Elias chuckled in response. Monika, while not being very good with people and holding a conversation, always managed to make him genuinely smile. That was a hard feat to accomplish in his case.  
Kötz tried getting up, but his creaking bones prevented that in a spectacular display of cracking noises.

"I think I'll just stay here for a while..." he said as he lay motionless on the floor, looking up at the ceiling and pondering about the poor life choices that led him to this terrible position.

"If you don't get up, I'll kick you in your Glied," Monika threatened, readying her leg for a powerful struck aimed at his groin.

"Smart. Always go for the biggest target," Elias joked.

It didn't take long for his relaxed state to perish in the smoke of penetrating anxiety. Ever since his commanding officer told him about the Rainbow program, he hadn't been able to shake off the feeling of fear – as if he was willingly walking into a trap and pulling his friends down with him as well. But wasn't the thing that bothered him the most. It was the fact he was selected as _one of the best_. It annoyed him beyond reason to have been considered better than others. He thought of himself as no one any more or less special than anyone else – after all, he was only doing his job and nothing more. His worrying was cut short by a truly spectacular sight. Dominic and Marius entered the gym _together_ , _**side-by-side**_.

"Your relationship is moving along quite fast. So, when can we expect to hear the happy announcement?" he joked, burying his previous worries under a layer of humour.

Immediately after hearing those words, Streicher distanced himself from Brunsmeier, who didn't move a single inch and remained in his spot – determined and calm. Oh, he hated Marius, more than anyone else really. He just didn't like showing it, seeing as he perceived expression of such strong emotions as a sign of weakness. No matter how cold the years of being undercover and doing horrible things have made him, he couldn't stand Streicher's childish arrogance with no substance to back it up. He was just an overly-loud twit with a bloated ego. The only reason he tolerated the walk to the gym by his side is because he was hoping he would get the chance to grab the man by his neck and squeeze the life out of him. Sadly, such an opportunity never presented itself.  
Elias could see the sparks of hate and detestation flying between them like gunfire – something he perceived as a possible danger to the team's well-being. He figured if they somehow released their anger upon each other, then they might start getting along a bit better which would benefit everyone.

"Nikki, don't you ever wonder who would win in a fistfight between _Bandit_ and _Jäger_?" he asked Monika.

"I really don't, no," she answered, trying to distance herself from his plan that was bound to burn up in an epic fashion.

"Oh c'mon, where's your sense of adventure? I personally do wonder that, to an almost creepy degree. What about you two?" he exclaimed, turning to the men in front of him.

"Nein. After all, it wouldn't even be a fair fight for Brunsmeier," Marius arrogantly boasted.

Dominic slowly turned towards him, suppressing the overwhelming need to break his jaw.

"Yeah? Alright, I'll fight you, _Mary_ ," he said in his usual cold and yet strongly demeaning tone.

This was the chance he was craving for and he wouldn't let it go to waste for anything. Marius, surprised by the man's nonchalant acceptance of the challenge, slowly turned to face him.

"You'll be regretting it, Brunsmeier," he threatened him, but failed to invoke any sort of feeling of fear in his opponent.

Dominic remained quiet and continued to smirk with inviolable confidence.

"Are you two gonna kiss or are you gonna fight?!" Elias shouted across the gym.

The men distanced themselves and prepared to fight. Dominic fought with unrivalled ferocity, but his style was very straight-forward and predictable, while on the other hand, Marius preferred the less brutal approach to a more methodical and dodge focused one. Brunsmeier was the one to start the fight off with a right cross aimed at his opponent's face – a strike that was easily dodged and countered with a left hook to the ribs. The force was something Dominic didn't expect. He thought his would barely be able to feel Marius' hits, but the man caused quite a lot of pain with a single blow. It angered him to a point where his tactical strategic thinking completely shut off and he retaliated with a cross that was meant to hit his opponent in the head. Streicher dodged his punch effortlessly and answered the man's aggression with a jab that connected with his face, causing him to stagger.

"Motherfucker," Dominic muttered to himself while wiping of a speck of blood from his lip.

The combination of continuous punches and Kötz's unwanted comments from the sidelines infuriated Dominic. He became more and more reckless with each passing second, throwing punches without a single thought. Streicher dodged his third strike – a right cross – and hit Brunsmeier in the side. Dominic was seeing red and his mind switched to full-on murder mode. Marius, who had taken his opponent's staggered state as a chance to try and land a punch, was expertly blocked when Brunsmeier put his arm in the way of his and stopping it dead in its tracks. Completely disregarding Streicher's safety and well-being, Dominic kneed him in the gut with all the strength he could muster. With his opponent now bent over, wincing in pain, he struck the back of his knee causing it to give out and forcing the man to kneel down. The fight was finished with a single punch to Marius' face as soon as he looked up. He fell to the ground with a bloody nose and drained of all energy. Dominic had to use every ounce of willpower he had at his disposal to stop himself from stomping the defenceless and exhausted Streicher's face.

"We have a winner!" Elias excitedly cheered.

"Yay," Monika joined in unenthusiastically.

Brunsmeier had no reaction to his victory, apart from a deep feeling of satisfaction and freedom. He walked out of the gym, proud and calm. Elias approached the possibly deceased Marius.

"Karma's a bitch, isn't it Mary?" he whispered into his ear.

Marius slowly turned towards him, barely able to move his head.

"We've got a plane to England to catch. Don't be late," Kötz added before leaving the room with Monika.

"Fucking...bastard..." Streicher whimpered.


End file.
